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Teluel

“Ooh, I found a good one!” says Teluel excitedly. “Look at the emblem on top–I think this is one of the Enchanted Arrows of Alectria!”

“That’s a weathervane,” says Black Dougal gently.

Teluel crestfalls. “I’m awful at picking out equipment. Maybe I should just get a bunch of healing potions,” she mutters.

“Now come on, Tel, we can pick those up anywhere.” Dougal makes an expansive gesture, coincidentally knocking four or five priceless little knickknacks down his sleeve. “This is the Dweomerium! Treat yourself to something unique!”

In Teluel’s belt pouch, her magic gift certificate sits, pulsing with unidentified possibilities.